Backache
by Au revoir Amour
Summary: Chekov/Sulu smut; how a fight turns into an injury, which turns out to not be so bad after all. Warning: Slash-lemons. If you don't like, don't read!


**_Can't really write Pavel's accent for the life of me, but I tried, so there. :P Anyway, this is what you get when a fiften-year-old straight girl tries to write cutesy homosexual smut. ...Yeah. _Fail_. But you guys know by now how much I love reviews, right? :D  
~Jessi_**

* * *

Sweat dripped down the back of Ensign Chekov's neck, and he swiped it impatiently with his grimy sleeve. The Jefferies Tubes were hotter than Hell itself, but they needed every man they could spare fixing the essential parts of the ship that had been damaged in their last fight with the Empire. Pavel sighed with satisfaction and withdrew his head from inside the open panel as the glowing tube he had been working on sprang to life, filling the cramped space with a dim blue light. He flipped open his communicator quickly.

"Chekov to Lieutenant Scott," he said, still panting from the effort his job had taken, "Circuit twenty-four iz back online, sir."

"_Excellent! But your shift ended three hours ago, Laddie. Shouldn't you be resting up?_" was the crackling reply that came over the static-filled, half-working line.

"_Nyet_. I took a double shift, sir, to help with ze repairs." He leaned against the side of the Tube and wiped his sweating palms on his pants. "What's next?"

"_You've been working fourteen hours straight, kid, don't you think it's about time to—_"

"I'm _fine_. What iz next to do?"

There was a wave of static, as though Scotty had sighed over the young Ensign's determination to work through the entire crisis. "_Well, I _suppose _you could repair the energy coils in Jefferies 64—_"

"On eet, sir. Chekov out." He flipped closed his communicator and reattached it to his belt, and then lifted himself as though to stand. The Jefferies Tube was too small, however, and Pavel found himself clutching his head in agony after he smashed it off the low bulkhead. "Ow! _Sookin syn_!" he swore loudly in Russian, falling into the side of the Tube and hitting his back against the warm metal. "Oof."

It took Pavel several moments to catch his breath, and when he did, he was gasping at the sudden pain in his spine. It took all the effort he could manage just to get out of the Tube and onto the nearest Deck, where he collapsed against the wall and hastily called Medical.

It was ten minutes before someone arrived to help him limp to the Sickbay, and at least twenty after that to find a Biobed to lie down on. They'd taken heavy casualties, and the last thing McCoy needed was him whining about hurting his back while repairing the ship.

"What did you do now, Ensign?" the Doctor said with obvious distain, looking at him like a bug on his windshield.

"I fell while repairing wital systems in ze Jefferies Tubes, sir," Pavel remarked glumly. "My back and my head hurt." Being the youngest member of the crew, people usually felt that he was underfoot. He definitely felt that way right about then as Dr. McCoy quickly ran a scanner over him.

"The only thing I can prescribe is a minor painkiller and some rest," Bones said gruffly, nodding to the nurse assisting him to retrieve the medication. "You look exhausted. Go to your quarters and rest up. I'll alert the Captain to your situation." He took the hypospray the nurse was offering him and pressed it lightly to his neck. It stung for a moment before the effects started and numbed some of the ache in his spine. "Now, off with you. Go."

Pavel almost argued. He almost disobeyed the Doctor and asked to continue his shift. But he sure as Hell didn't want say that he was avoiding the man who shared the adjoining quarters with his own. He definitely didn't want to explain to the Doctor that he and his best friend — boyfriend? — had had their first fight, and he was doing everything he could to avoid talking to him.

So instead of arguing, he hung his head sadly and left his bed so another patient could occupy it. He watched his feet as he walked slowly through the corridors, avoiding eye contact with the other officers who scurried by, too busy to look at the small Russian as he dragged his feet to the correct door on Deck 2 and entered his enter code.

Almost immediately he collapsed onto his bed, fully dressed in his grimy uniform, and fell into a restless slumber.

* * *

Someone shook Pavel's shoulder, and he groggily resurfaced from a dream of yelling and tears and harsh accusations. He looked blearily at his attacker— it was Hikaru, of course, sitting on the edge of his bed and glaring at him. The normally smiling brown eyes were crinkled in the corners in the way that they only did when he was upset, and Pavel felt his stomach drop.

"Where were you?" demanded the man that meant everything to Pavel in a strained voice, "You had me worried!"

"Worried?" repeated the slightly stunned Ensign, "Why were you worried?"

"Because I woke up and asked the computer where you were, and it said you were in the Sickbay!" The slightly desperate tone in Hikaru's voice threw Pavel for a loop. "And then you didn't come to see me? What was I supposed to think?" Both young men cast their eyes downward.

"Sorry, Karu, I just thought..." He paused for a beat. "I thought you'd still be mad at me." He looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I didn't mean what I said. I was angry, and hurt, and... eet isn't true." He bit his lip when Hikaru didn't reply right away.

"No. It's true. I _do_ push away people I care about. I _do_ put on a brave face and lie about how I'm feeling. You were just telling the truth, and I can't be mad at you for that, now can I?" He looked at his best friend. "You've gotta know how much I love you, right?"

Pavel knew. He'd always know. Hikaru had never said it before, but he had made it clear— the stolen kisses, heated looks, secret cuddling— he'd known, but it felt so much better to actually hear it from Hikaru directly. He felt as though he might cry, but settled for sitting up and wrapping his arms around his stomach in an appreciative hug.

And Hikaru hugged him back, enticing a hiss of pain from Pavel as he applied pressure to his already injured back. The look of concern that the Asian man shot his companion was just so loving Pavel almost laughed, had he not been in pain. The medication must have worn off.

"Come on, show it to me."

"_Nyet_— eet iz not _zhat_ bad..."

"Pavel, show me."

Pavel sighed, but resented; he slowly peeled off the dirty gold shirt and turned so he was sitting with his back to Hikaru. Hikaru whistled when he saw the damage.

"Ouch," he said, and Pavel swore he heard a smile in the voice. "That's a bruise all right." Pavel felt Hikaru's long fingers dance over the skin of his back, and has the bite his lip to stop himself from making a rather embarrassing noise. "God, how long have you been working? Your muscles have more knots than the oak tree in my old backyard."

"Only fourteen hours or zo..." mumbled Chekov almost incoherently as his tired muscles relaxed into the pilot's experienced hands. "Wasn't zhat bad..."

Hikaru leaned forward and put his lips close to his companion's ear. "I can make it better," he whispered, and the hot breath in his ear made Pavel shiver uncontrollably. The shivers disappeared, however, as the helmsman's hands also disappeared from his shoulders. Pavel made a noise of frustration, and he would swear felt the muscles of his shoulders begin to tense up again once the wonderful pressure had been removed.

"Lie down on your stomach. It'll be easier that way," Hikaru whispered also teasingly in Pavel's ear. Of course, Pavel didn't waste any time in obeying his superior's orders, stretching himself out like a cat on top of the blankets. Hikaru admired the stretch for a moment, then called for lights to fifty per cent and promptly straddled his friend's knees and set about messaging all the tension from the sore, overworked muscles, starting from the shoulders and working his way down.

Pavel had a hard time suppressing the moans and groans and squeaks of gratitude he produced as nimble fingers pressed firmly into every knot and aching place in his back, relaxing him to no end. He felt as though he might fall asleep like this, in such a wonderful state of relaxation; his eyes fluttered closed and he yawned silently. It was then he felt the hands stop moving on his lower back and grab onto his hips, and the hot breath in his ear again.

"Not falling asleep, are you? I had so much more _fun_ planned..." was whispered just before a soft kiss was planted on the side of his neck.

Pavel's eyes snapped open. Well, that certainly woke certain _parts _of him up.

"Oh...?" Pavel purred, turning his head so he could look Hikaru in the eyes. He then batted his eyelashes in the way he knew made him look so sweet and innocent. "What kind of fun?" Hikaru climbed off his friend's knees gently, careful not to hit his bruised back with his knee on the way over, and lay down beside him, never breaking eye contact. Why must his eyes be so blue?

"Well," Hikaru said slowly, licking his lips. "We could, um..." He leaned close, pressing their foreheads together. "Do this..." He gently pressed his lips against Pavel's, who responded with his usual enthusiasm. He pulled away after a moment, enticing a groan from Pavel again as his blue eyes fluttered back open. "Or..." Hikaru grinned sheepishly. "If you're up to it..." He trailed his magic fingers up the navigator's spine slowly, causing him to shiver with anticipation. "We could..."

Pavel pounced. He eagerly pressed his lips to Hikaru's in a feverish kiss filled with hunger and absolute need. He was so turned on by Hikaru's rather unusual foreplay that he didn't want to wait another second before he could touch every single part of the lean Asian man.

Tongues battled, and hands groped desperately as both men tried to shed their remaining clothes unsuccessfully. They had to break the heated kiss for a moment to pull off Hikaru's uniform shirt, and that moment was so agonising that it almost wasn't worth it, except that it _was_. Pavel ran his hands up Hikaru's flat stomach and the muscles and sinew that covered his chest and back from all his rigorous fencing exercises, gasping and clinging to his shoulders as the older man ground their hips together.

It was all so new and extraordinary, their making love the first time. It wasn't the least bit graceful as they fumbled with belts and socks while trying not to ever stop touching each other, never break that heated contact as though it were essential to their survival.

Once they were both stripped down to just their Starfleet-issue underwear, something occurred to Chekov, even as his brain worked overtime to process the fears, excitement, hopes and doubts that were all flashing through his mind at Warp Factor 8. "K-Karu," he moaned as Hikaru pushed him into the mattress and dragged his tongue over the dip in his collar bone. "We're going to need something to—"Their eyes met and there was understanding.

Hikaru had come prepared, however, and dove for his pants which at some point had been discarded to the floor. Pavel took that moment to admire the curve of his almost-lovers behind, tilting his head sideways to get a better view in a way that made him look rather like a puppy. That look at Hikaru beaming as he held up the tube he had fished from his pants' pocket. And the blush that spread across Pavel's face just set Hikaru's blood on fire even more.

The tube was placed carefully within arm's reach on the bedside table, and then the feverish kissed resume. It's all teeth and tongues and a battle for control that neither really wants to win. And then Pavel's pulling impatiently at the waistband of Hikaru's boxers, and he strips them off in one fluid motion, kicking them onto the floor.

And once again Pavel is speechless, because he's never seen anything more beautiful than Hikaru fully naked, panting, and hovering over him like some kind of wild animal. It's amazing. It's exhilarating. It's wonderful. Pavel ran his hands down Hikaru's chest, over his stomach and finally has him in his hand, and it's beautiful. He loves the sounds Hikaru makes as he gently strokes up and down, pulling slowly and then releasing, repeating the motion. He loves the expression on Hikaru's face as he gazes at Pavel, who is red in the face with wide eyes and breathing heavily through swollen pink lips.

"You are so sexy," pants Hikaru, digging his fingertips into Pavel's hips, which will probably bruise but neither cares enough to say anything about it. "I love you." He kisses away any answer he might have gotten from the younger man and he pulls Pavel's underwear over his tiny hips and down to his knees, where they are kicked off to join his own.

But then it's Hikaru's turn to be surprised as Pavel turns the tables— quite literally— by grabbing his shoulders flipping him onto his back so that the Russian is on top, sitting on the tops of Hikaru's thighs. He grinned mischievously at the other man's shock, reaching for the tube on the bedside table.

"Iz my turn," he says, his accent thicker than peanut butter because of his lustiness. He opens the lid of the bottle and spreads a generous amount of its contents over Hikaru's erection, who gasped as the cold gel made contact. Pavel got up on his knees so that he was hovering above him, holding him at the ready. Hikaru opened his mouth to say something— perhaps an objection to this happening so quickly, or without properly preparing his partner— but Pavel silenced whatever he was about to say with a kiss of reassurance, and slowly pressed himself down.

The joining of their bodies caused a cascade of feeling to all of their senses. It smelled like sweat and humanness and tasted like skin and tongue and teeth; it felt like their bodies were on fire, they needed each other so badly it hurt; the sound of blood pounding in their ears blocked out every else, covering the sharp intake of breath that both men made on contact.

Hikaru's heart was racing, and he had to resist grabbing his young lover's hips and screwing him to Kingdom come for fear of hurting him. So he balled his fists in the sheets, closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the sensations that Pavel was causing and he slowly— _agonisingly_ slowly— lowered himself.

Pavel moaned, arching his back so far he thought he'd break his spine in two, but having too many endorphins running through his blood for him to care too much about the injury. He arched his back and wriggled himself down, using his hands on his lover's chest for leverage. It was so amazing he could barely breath, trying to take in every inch of his beautiful lover, and very much enjoying the sounds being made beneath him.

Hikaru was fully consumed in fire, every inch of his skin from his ears to his toes felt on edge and in pleasure-filled agony. When he's finally all the way in, they're both shaking, and he experimentally jerks his hips upward just a little, and Pavel gasps like there'll never be enough air to breathe. A rhythm is established; slow, deliberate, tantalizing. They rock together, enticing soft moans that neither knows they're making. It was beautiful, in such a basic human way that Pavel was almost crying, blinking back tears from his heavily-lidded eyes.

And Hikaru is watching Pavel's face, and the way his back is arching so that he can hit _that spot_ again, and he thinks he's never seen anyone look sexier, or more innocent, as Pavel does at the moment; his eyes half-closed, his long lashes catching unfallen tears of joy, his pink lips pursed in concentration and his back arched at a painful-looking angle.

Their pace quickened and they moved together in unison, the need and heat pouring out of their bodies like steam. And then Pavel's making high-pitched squeaks every time he hits _that spot_, and he's _so close_...

It was Pavel who came first with a cry of anguish, and it was the muscles tightening around him that drive Hikaru over the edge right along with him. Pavel is a welcome dead weight on Hikaru's chest as they lay panting together, blissfully high, their heavy breathing the only sounds in the dimly-lit room. Eventually the shift so they they're spooning and Hikaru can drape his arm over Pavel's stomach.

Pavel's fast asleep in minutes, and Hikaru covers them both up with the blanket, not caring that they were both covered in— and smelled like— their own bodily fluids. It didn't matter. They'd deal with it in the morning. He snuggled his face into Pavel's neck and slowly drifted off to sleep himself.

* * *

Captain Kirk watched silently as Chekov stretched his back, rotating his upper body to one side then the other. It was the third time he'd done this in the past hour. Jim knew from Bones' report that Chekov had injured his back a few days before while doing some repairs in a Jefferies Tube, and wondered vaguely how bad the injury had been.

"Ensign Chekov."

Pavel snapped to attention and turned to face the Captain dutifully. "Yes, Keptin?"

"How's your back feeling? Do you need to be relieved of duty to see the Doctor?" he asked, slightly confused by the Ensign's reaction as he flushed bright red, and then shared a glance with the helmsman sitting beside him. It was a glance that Jim didn't miss— an embarrassed, "_We're busted_," kind of look that he knew all too well.

"_Nyet_, Keptin. Eet iz no problem at all."

He tried to hide the growing flush in his face by turning back to his post. "I am fit az a wiolin, az you say."

Kirk laughed quietly at the error in the metaphor, but didn't bother to correct him. He did, after all, see the blush in the back of the youngest crew member's neck, and didn't want to embarrass him further. Perhaps it was like an older-brother thing, but he felt oddly protective of the kid.

"Whatever you say, Ensign. Sulu, increase speed to Warp Factor 5."

"Aye Captain," Hikaru said, entering the necessary code to do so. "Warp Factor 5."

The helmsman and navigator shared another glance when they thought no one was looking and both knew they were thinking of the same thing; how absolutely sexy Pavel looked with his back arched.


End file.
